Rhiannon stood by the high window of her chamber and watched the setting Sun. The seventh day of her stay in Minas Tirith was drawing to a close, and she still had no news of her brother. She was standing by the windowsill, her hand resting on the smooth, cool surface of the white stone which gave its color to the legendary Tower of Guard, and before her eyes, for who knows which time, passed the scene of their parting. It was as fair an evening as one could wish for - the sky was of the brightest blue, and the twilight hour was still far away, the air was warm, and the cool breeze was pleasant on the face...

There was no sound of footsteps as Morendil entered the room and stopped in the doorframe. She was still for a moment, listening intently, and shook her head, as her suspicions were confirmed – it was for the seventh time that she found the Elf here, and she knew very well what memories went through the Immortal's mind. Though Morendil was blind, she could sense everything around her, and sometimes, what she felt overwhelmed her. The day of Dorean and Baltrok's departure was one of those days which she would remember for all her life.

When the Sun got past Noon, Baltrok and Dorean came into the room, both clad in their usual fashion – the former was all in black, and wore a long cloak of the same color, fastened carelessly at his shoulder; the latter was dressed after Mirkwood fashion, all in greens and browns, he too, wore a cloak, woven of a material fine as silk, and warm as wool. A long sword hung by the Demon's side, concealed by his cloak, and a chain mail of the lightest green glinted now and again, when Dorean moved. Two heads turned at the same time, one black as a raven's feather, the other – bright as wheat under the summer Sun. "Your decision is final, then?",- came Rhiannon's somewhat choked voice. Dorean walked up to her and took her arms in his, looking into her eyes steadily. "No, Rhiannon, you and Morendil will remain here in the White City. We do not want you to risk your lives." His voice was low, and his tone – gentle, but her brother's eyes were hard, and Rhiannon knew that their last argument did not sway him. Furious, she turned to Morendil for support, but her friend just shook her head silently, keeping her arms crossed. Baltrok stepped forward, next to Dorean: "Rhiannon, there is nothing to be angry about! You know well enough that pirates don't like to deal with women..." – the Elf's eyes flared with stung pride and Baltrok finished the sentence somewhat urgently – "...even with women as decided and ... dangerous as you are." Morendil smiled at the awkward pause before the word "dangerous", she was quite sure the Demon wanted to say some other epithet. Suddenly, she felt a tingle of silent laughter. There could be no mistake – Dorean spotted the same moment she did, and, obviously, made the same conclusion. Rhiannon, however, was oblivious in her anger, all she did notice was that Dorean smiled at Baltrok's words, a fact which made her even angrier, somehow. "So, you and you friend are to go and risk your necks while we sit here, like old furniture, waiting silently for your return? I can fight, and you both know it!!",- she raised her voice considerably, and both men winced. Dorean was the first to react: "Rhiannon, we don't take you and Morendil with us because we care about you! I already lost my mother, and Loreley is gone. Rhiannon, you and Morendil, are sisters to me, I don't want to lose you both!" The young woman watched him, tears welling in her eyes, and hung her head. Morendil's voice came soothingly: "They are right, Rhiannon." She walked slowly towards the Elf and hugged her. Dorean wiped the tears running down her cheeks and said:" We love you, that's all". All this while Baltrok stood silently at a distance, watching the siblings make peace. Rhiannon's eyes were still wet when she looked up, and said, tossing her hair:" Forgive me, I should not have come to pieces like this. You should make haste, or the ship will depart without you." Both men nodded, and they made for the door silently. Rhiannon and Morendil followed them, the Elf fumbling with something in her pocket. Finally, when they were out on the terrace and Dorean and Baltrok turned to say their farewells, she decided herself. She unfastened a leathern bracelet from her arm and handed it to Dorean. "This might come in useful, dear brother. Take it." At the inner side of the bracelet there was a soft sheath with a sharp little knife. Dorean's face was grave, he took the gift silently, bowing his head in thanks. Then, the Elf stepped to Baltrok, whose eyebrow shot up immediately – he never expected this. Rhiannon held up her hand and fastened something to his cloak, over the left collarbone. It was a small silver brooch with a strange gem inside – it did not reflect light, and was of a greenish-blue color. "Legoluin – it is said to bring luck. My father gave it to me before going into the West. May the Sun help you find your way". "And may the Moon and Stars protect you in unfriendly lands",- Morendil said softly. The men nodded silently and away they went, down the steps, into an arch, and out of sight. Later that evening, a ship with black sails went down the Anduin and made for the Sea.

The vision ended, and Rhiannon found that her cheeks were wet. "It is no good, worrying about them like you do. You are wasting yourself away, Rhiannon, and that will not do" Morendil's voice was soft, as always, but it was full of concern. Rhiannon sighed: "There is nothing I can do with myself – I am Dorean's older sister, and it is like being back in the days when I was in charge and he couldn't be left to himself without doing some mischief...And now Baltrok is his best friend, and he's the chief troublemaker of the two!" Morendil laughed, making Rhiannon wonder: "What?" The woman answered, still laughing: "Well, dear Rhi, I'm afraid, your little brother has grown up long ago, and he doesn't need a mother-hen anymore. You should expect many surprises from him now." Rhiannon frowned at first, but then she chuckled, too. "A mother-hen, am I?" The answer came immediately; "Oh, yes, and of the finest kind, too." Now they both laughed merrily, and went out onto the terrace. After a small silence, Morendil said: "They will return soon, Rhiannon. We just have to wait a little longer" "Yes, you must be right, as always",- was the reply. The Elf closed her eyes against the salty wind blowing from the Sea and muttered : "We will wait".